Summer
by hotsoupdinner
Summary: Summer vacation is overrated.


Alphonse Elric's boots dug into the felt of the padded bench as he leaned out the open window of the passenger train, somehow relieved to not be traveling as luggage, although he did not know why. The wind whipped his dirty blonde, freshly grown hair about his forehead in streamers while his large brown eyes squinted against the sun that beat down on his skin, newly tanned from one of his Teacher's most recent lessons out in the wastelands.

"Next stop, Resembool!" the conductor shouted in a jovial, windy voice but Alphonse already knew that. He could recognize every tree, stone, and blade of grass within miles of his childhood home, now mysteriously burnt to the ground.

He sat back down in his seat, having breathed in the air that he knew his friends and family had breathed before. His lungs greeted the little particles of loved ones which visited, kissed them, then sent them on their way with an exhale. This was the first time Al had seen the Rockbells since he had left to study again with Teacher. His excitement pricked at his skin with little lances of electricity. He felt that it was some sort of static buildup that he was sure was going to pass from person to person when Winry picked him up at the station.

His gloved hands gripped his kneecaps as the train slowed down, the lumbering giant preparing for a short snooze before heading back off for other distant lands, like blood traveling through cross-tie veins and propelled by a steam engine heartbeat. The train's breath came chugging slower and slower before coming to a halt with the screech of brakes grinding against metal and the call of the whistle.

Al pressed his nose against the glass, eagerly trying to catch a glimpse of Winry through the throng of well-wishers and greeters welcoming the long-lost home. There she was, he spotted her off to the side. He spied the molten gold filaments of her hair and her bright blue eyes pierced through the crowd. She stood waiting, having traded her work overalls, top, and bandana for a smart pleated skirt with a white top. Her arms were clasped in front of her, gripping a worn brown suitcase tightly before her.

"Probably couldn't wait 'til we got home to show me her new tools," he laughed to himself and shook his head. The he blushed as he remembered their promise the last time she had stood for him on that platform and he had sat on the train. When he had left for Teacher's they had promised to always look after one another and to work to become the best they could be in their respective fields in order to help each other. "And," Al added to himself," to find Brother."

He stepped into the light after grabbing his trunk and the wide grin on his face pushed his eyes shut against the glare. Winry rushed forward to him. Her shins were knocking against the trunk and it resounded like a drum with a heavy, hollow sound. They stopped as close to each other and as their dangling luggage would allow before dropping their burdens and jumping into each other's arms for a large embrace, oblivious of the push of the crowd as they fought to make their way around the two.

The crowd finally dissipated. Al and Winry were sitting on their trunks, which were propped up like stools, regaling each other with adventures, lessons, and just plain day-to-day goings on. The train's whistle sounded again and a startled Winry jumped to her feet. She grabbed the handle to her luggage and dragged it over to the shipping office.

"Al, help me, we have to get this on the train!"

Alphonse pushed the trunk from the back, surprised by its weight and wondering how she had managed to lug it all this way. He grunted with the effort. "What is it?"

Her face carried a stony, determined look although her reply remained cheerful. "Samples of my work I'm sending to Rush Valley. Shops have been clambering for me to contract with me for some time now. You didn't think you were the only one keeping up their end of the bargain, did you?" she chided. Her face contorted into a wickedly devious sort of grin. "You jealous I'm not just making mail for you anymore, Ed?"

Her face fell instantly as she recognized her mistake. Her voice grew soft, "I'm sorry Al. You just look so much like him now. It must be the hair, or the clothes."

Alphonse looked down at his white gloved hands with their patterned palms as uniformed attendants rushed around him, struggling to carry the heavy suitcase and looking from him to Winry, wondering how a pretty girl and a boy had been able to carry it as far as this by themselves. Al tried to remember what his brother had looked like in the years that were lost to him. This wasn't the first time someone had mistaken him for Ed, especially after he started growing out his hair and he adopted the jacket that bore Teacher's alchemical crest.

Winry's voice interrupted his reverie, "Come on Al, it's time to go home," she said apologetically.

The Rockbell place was still just as Al could always remember it, as if it were the only thing that had the ability to stay the same throughout the whole world when everything else seemed to be falling apart at the seams. Al mused that their peaceful life was the equivalent exchange for all the hard work done and generosity given by Winry's family throughout the years. The sounds of clanging metals greeted them from the distance, Pinako's work, and Al knew as soon as he walked through the door he would be able to smell the ever-present lubricants and oils on the air.

Winry beamed at the sign near the door that proclaimed their trade, she was proud that some of the prestige afforded the Rockbell name was her doing. No longer did she need to rely on the reputations of others to sell her work. Al grinned at her. He would have squeezed her hand in support and admiration, but they were struggling to carry his things as it was.

Alphonse's happy train of thought was only broken for a moment, as, out of the corner of his eye he saw a dark figure move quickly from its vantage point to behind a tree to avoid detection. He promptly forgot the occurrence and thought nothing of it until much later.

Pinako's throaty voice greeted them as they climbed the steps to the porch, "I hope you're not thinking of bringing all of those dusty things in here. It looks like you've taken a bath in the stuff." Alphonse winced, remembering the last couple of days with Teacher. Pinako's guess was partially right. Winry groaned, having realized that Al had sullied her too, little patches of dust were sticking to the machine oil that stained her skin.

"Off to the bath, the both of you," Pinako scolded. Then, looking from Al to Winry she added, "Sorry Al, ladies first. And you both had better leave your clothes behind for me to take care of." Al shrugged off his coat while Winry walked to the back of the house. Pinako stood, pipe in hand, muttering to herself as she supervised Al create a pile of soiled clothing on the porch before her, "I don't know when this house turned into an inn with laundry service. You can stop there," she said when he had stripped off all of his outer layers of clothing. She scooped up his clothing and Al was left to wait on the porch, rather indecently, in a wicker chair.

His mind wandered over the grass and hills to the place where his home had stood before it was replaced by the cinders and ash that inhabited the place today. He scrunched up his eyes tightly, trying to think of what would have driven him and his brother to destroy so many memories and to destroy them willingly. Nothing came to mind.

His ears perked up at the sound of rushing water through pipelines. So, Winry had just started her bath. He shivered despite the warmth of the afternoon and wondered how long she could possibly take. She was a girl after all, he mused sagely. And why did he need to wait for her at all? He could always use the open-aired shower out back. The thought brought a feverish blush to his face. Maybe Ed could afford not to be self-conscious about his body, but Al had always preferred to live behind a shell and leave his armor intact. As he turned the corner of the house he grew more and more nervous. What if somebody could see? He didn't trust a little wooden box to provide him with much protection, especially considering the embarrassing changes that were starting to overtake him the past couple of months. Too bad he had relinquished his gloves to Pinako, he could have made something a little more comfortable for himself.


End file.
